Sweet Secrets

Chapter 16

(This chapter is in Jack's POV from chapter 15. It's incredibly important)

*JACK'S POV*


I hardly remember falling asleep last night. I know I freaked out, and I yelled and pushed Alex. That's unforgivable. I know that eventually, I crawled over to him. I needed him. 
He held me too, all night long. We wound up sleeping on the floor.
Alex was still asleep when I woke up. My mind raced to everything that happened. 
I shouldn't have talked about Joe in the first place. I shouldn't have told him anything. I should've just left the house and kept mailing the payments in for my part of the bills. 
Instead, I told Joe like an idiot. Trying to be a somewhat good brother. Of course, he took it the wrong way. He always takes everything I say the wrong way. I could kiss the ground he walks on and I'd still be wrong. I'd still be the brother that shouldn't have been born. There will truly never be anything I can do right by him. My existence at all is exactly what's wrong with me, what's wrong with our relationship.
I wasn't wrong though when I told Joe that I couldn't be there. Seeing my blood all over the floor and staining the driveway was enough. I had to wonder, would he still be there if that was his blood? His stains on the driveway? His memories of literally dragging himself outside in the hope that literally anyone would see me and help me, all while trying to accept the fact that death was probably the more likely situation?
I think not. I think he'd hate the place. I think that he chewed me out because it's me. I think that none of that matters to him because it's me. If it was May, I know for a fact that he would be so understanding and loving. He didn't resent her.
He'd even played the 'you think he didn't hurt me too' game. He didn't stab anyone to the point that an organ had to be removed, or cause their brain to swell, or break their arm. 
No, that was all me. All in one go. Joe can't play that game with me. I won't accept it.

Alex ran away from me when I pushed him. I couldn't blame him. I could've hurt him. I don't think that I did, but I could've. Because Alex is Alex, I kept control of myself that much. I refuse to black out and hurt him the way I hurt his ex on my birthday. I refuse. To put a hand on him would be like shooting down an angel. Unheard of.
Him running away was probably a good idea.
I blacked out on the rest of the room instead.
I grabbed things off the dresser, books, little trinkets Alex had on there. I threw the pillows off the bed against the wall, knocking things down. The sheet had come off with the pillows.
I screamed choked, angry sobs while I got my rage out until I couldn't take it anymore. I destroyed the place.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I hit the wall with my fists, not punching it, just hitting it. I needed to hit something.
I couldn't do this anymore. 
I let myself just get down on the floor, hitting the back of my head against the wall.
Maybe if I hit it hard enough, my skull repair that I had to have done because of that fucker would break again and my brain would swell, and this time, if I was lucky, I'd die. 
That would be it. I'd be dead and that would be the best thing for everyone. I'm not supposed to exist after all.
So I sat there crying and hitting my head. 
Nothing in my brain made sense. None of it.
I kept my face hidden in my hands, ashamed of myself. If Alex came out here and saw me crying and my stupid pitiful face, he'd hate me even more. After all, I pushed him. He hates me and he should. Everyone hates me.

"Jack..." I heard him say quietly, cautiously.
"Go away." I shook, feeling my rage build up again. Not against him, none of this was against him. He's just the only one here.
"I will if that's what you need, but I'm here okay? I'm right here." How the fuck is he being so caring? So loving? I pushed him. I scared him. 
Keeping it together isn't possible anymore.
"GO AWAY!" I screamed, immediately regretting it. I broke down in those disgusting wet sobs again and just sat there. 
He didn't leave, but he did shut up and sit away from me. I could handle that much.
I sat there crying like an idiot. 
I lost track of time, but I needed Alex. Only Alex.
There was nothing in me that would let me stand up to walk to him, so I mustered up enough energy to crawl to him.
He didn't even notice me, he was playing with a loose bit of carpet.
I grabbed his arms and scooted myself in between his legs, laid my head down against his chest and just cried. It's all I could manage to do. Cry, cry, and cry.
Alex understood though. Like the angel he is, he held me close, his head resting on mine.
I gripped onto his shirt for dear life. He's the only thing keeping me anchored to earth right now, and I almost hurt him. I almost hurt him. I almost hurt him.
I'm a fucking monster.
"I-" I choked on the post nasal drip running down my throat as I cried, "I'm so sorry!"
He just held me. He didn't respond. Maybe he was letting me get it all out.
"I pu-" I coughed, choking again. He cut me off.
"Shhh....Jack shhh...You're safe, I'm fine, just shhh..." He squeezed me against him tighter, and I pressed my body against his as much as I possibly could. I need him.
He pulled me onto his lap. I'm that pathetic that he has me sitting on his lap now, like a baby.
Alex started humming to me, a favorite song of his. Little Hell by City & Colour.
His voice is beautiful even when he's just humming. I don't deserve him. I can't deserve him.
Still, here he is. Always right here. Always loving me. I don't deserve it.
I hid my face completely. I stopped crying, there was nothing left in me.
So exhausted. If I fell asleep right now, I hoped to not wake up.
My cheek was against his chest again, and all I could do was just sit here trying to stop shaking like a chihuahua. Trying to keep my breathing even. Trying to keep myself from falling apart.

Then he laid us down. He held me so close to him that nearly every part of us was touching. I kept my face against his neck. His body spray is a comforting smell to me, and he's so warm. He's always so warm. I kept my hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat, gripping his shirt for dear life. He's alive and he's holding me and he loves me. That feeling of his heart beating is keeping me sane. 
I laid there for a while, but I kept thinking about things I didn't want to think about. Like my mom, like my dad, like my brother, like my sister. Like the abuse. Like finding out she died and she did it herself. Like watching our dad beat the shit out of us. Like watching Joe do his best to take care of May and I while he hated me for it. Treating May so much better than me. I got the bare minimum, she got whatever she wanted. I accepted it, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell.
Why am I not good enough for anything? Why am I the one being thrown down stairs? Why am I the one getting hit by him just like our dad hit us before?
It's not fair. I'm sorry for existing. I shouldn't, and it's clear to me.
I need Alex.
I need to hear him.
I can feel him, I can smell him, but I can't hear him.
"Sing." I whispered to him, my voice so small. 
He sang Pixie Queen by Anthony Green to me. He loves Anthony Green.
"More." I felt more relaxed, my voice got even quieter. His voice is like a dose of morphine to me. Him holding me like this is like all of the happy pills and the sedatives all at once. He keeps me calm. 
He sang Simple Man by City & Colour.
I like that song.
I didn't ask him to sing anymore. I hoped that he would, but he didn't have to now.
He moved away to look at me, but I grabbed onto him even tighter, my eyes closed.
"I'm here...I'm not going anywhere." He whispered to me.
I just laid there. 


July 1st.
I don't remember falling asleep. 
I hardly remember the mess I made.
I remember pushing Alex, and I remember crying against the wall, hitting my head. My head hurt because of it. I remember Alex coming out to help me, and I yelled at him. I remember crawling to him and breaking down, and I remember him singing to me.
I don't remember anything else.
The panic and anxiety set in immediately, it had never gone away. It just simply took a pause while my body gave up on me.
Alex held me tight. So he was awake. Maybe I woke him up.
"Hey..." He said gently, but I could hear the caution in his voice. 
I just kept my face hidden, too ashamed of myself to look at him.
He rolled over onto his back, "Just try to relax. Come here." 
I curled myself up against him as tight as I could get. 
Why am I like this? Why the hell am I such a mess?
I hate myself. I should get away from him and save him from me, but I can't. I'm so selfish that I can't. 

"We gotta talk love..." He sounded cautious again.
I shook my head.
"Jack, baby we have to talk." 
My stomach sank, "About what?" I managed to get out in a whisper, refusing to move.
"About what happened...Can you tell me why your brother snapped like that?" He was rubbing my back so softly. It felt so good. Talking is the last thing on my mind. Sleeping again sounded good.
"He's mad at me...He's always mad at me...I'm the reason our dad flied off the rails even worse...My mom got pregnant with me...He wanted her to get an abortion...She wanted to get an abortion...She went to the clinic and all, but changed her mind last second. Then she resented it. He beat her while she was pregnant with me, and when I was born she had such bad postpartum depression that she sort of just did the bare minimum and pawned me off to Joe....He resents me even existing because of it....He thinks that since I was born, all I've been is a mistake, a disaster...Something that shouldn't have happened...Much like my dad, he tells me that I should've been aborted...Alex, when I used to piss him off, he'd hit me just like my dad does. He threw me down a flight of stairs once. I mean my mom did get better as I got older, I was like three when she started being the mom she'd been to Joe and May...but they hated me for that too. Because of me, she stopped being a good mom to them too." I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Clearly sleep wasn't something I was going to get. I owed it to him though to at least try to talk about it. My heart was racing and I felt nauseous, still I continued.
"When I told Joe about the house...I didn't mean I wouldn't help him sell it or rent it out or do my part to take care of it...I just meant that I didn't want to live there and whatever he chooses to do with it, I'll go along with it...I just want no part in it myself...I'll still pay what I have to...He didn't get that...So I'm the useless piece of shit I always have been and always will be. Every little thing he did to me...Hit me...Yell at me...Tell me how much of a fuck up I am...That's what hurts the most...To be told daily how much of a fuck up you are. All for existing." I shook my head, refusing to look at him. 

Alex sat up with me, and once again like the angel he is, the angel I don't deserve, he's comforting me.
"Jack, you're not a useless piece of shit, I'm glad you exist. I'm sorry he misunderstood your messages...Maybe you should call him...I know he's not a good brother to you, but maybe you can at least clear that up..." He put his hand on my back and started rubbing.
Calling Joe might be something I should do. I don't want to, but if he's telling me to then maybe I should. I dug my phone out of my pocket and called him.